


We'll always be together

by House_of_the_Lion



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Beautiful Golden Fools, Bibliothèque de Fictions Défi de lecture, F/M, sur votre 31
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 20,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27806401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/House_of_the_Lion/pseuds/House_of_the_Lion
Summary: We've always been together. We'll always be together.Another collection of 31 drabbles about our two favourite beautiful golden fools.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister
Comments: 22
Kudos: 104





	1. Hand

**Author's Note:**

> And here we are again for a new collection of drabbles :)  
> There will be 31 this time, many of them will be AUs, so pay attention to the notes at the beginning of the chapter (the context will be specified there).
> 
> Once again, the whole GoT universe belongs to GRRM, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Hand''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
> 
> Enjoy reading!

When Jaime left Cersei's house, he wasn't sure if the evening he had just experienced was real.

He had been happy to be able to spend a few hours quietly with his twin, for once his father didn't fill his schedule with boring meetings at the very highest level, in the hope that Jaime, as the eldest son, would one day take over the family business. Those moments had become rare, unfortunately, but that only made Jaime's pleasure when they came around even greater.

But he certainly hadn't expected the news Cersei had to tell him.

She was pregnant. She was carrying his child.

It was unexpected, and yet Jaime couldn't have been happier.

Having children with Cersei was something he hadn't dared to dream about since they were children themselves. But now it was no longer a dream. Now it was going to come true.

As he got behind the steering wheel of his car and drove back to his apartment, Jaime couldn't help but ask himself hundreds of questions.

Would it be a girl or a boy? Would he have Cersei's high cheekbones and thin face? Or would he have his strong jaw and his locks that looked like hammered gold? And would the baby recognize him?

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't see the truck roll in, as if out of nowhere.

The last things he was aware of were the sound of a horn, the ominous cracking of the car's body and the airbags being triggered...

* * *

When Cersei was awakened in the middle of the night by the ringing of her cell phone, she knew instantly that it was Jaime. After all, who else could call at such an hour?

Grabbing the phone, which did indeed display her brother's number, with a picture they had both taken a few years ago, she picked up the phone and mumbled, her voice still heavy with sleep:

''I'm warning you, Jaime, you'd better have a good reason for calling me at this hour...''.

She was cut off by an unknown voice at the other end of the line:

"Excuse me, are you Cersei Lannister?''

Feeling immediately much more awake than she had been a few minutes earlier, she sat up in bed and frowned:

''Yes, why? Who are you?''

Could it be that Jaime had a problem? No, it was impossible... She would know if he had had a problem. He would have called her... Unless?

''Sorry to bother you so late, Madam, but this is the hospital emergency room...''

After that, the only words that Cersei managed to distinguish were "your brother", "serious accident" and "surgery". Tears were already filling her emerald eyes and silently running down her cheeks.

The lady on the phone fell silent and asked:

"Madam, are you all right?''

Cersei didn't even know how she managed to articulate a coherent answer, but she arose, and began looking for clothes to go immediately to the hospital.

* * *

When she finally arrived at the hospital, she rushed to the emergency room, running in as if her life depended on it, which it almost did, after all.

She must have been easily recognizable, as an elderly nurse with a kind smile on her face approached her, and gently touched her arm:

''You are Cersei Lannister, aren't you?''

Cersei nodded, and the woman continued, her voice soft and reassuring:

''I'm the one you spoke to on the phone. Your brother has been taken care of. He's currently in surgery. He should be out soon.''

''Is he...''

Cersei didn't even have time to finish her question when new tears formed in the corner of her eyes.

The nurse looked at her with compassion and took her by the hand, dragging her to two empty seats in the crowded emergency room waiting room and making her sit on one of them, while she sat next to her, still holding her hand:

''You guys must be really close, right? Few men your brother's age ask their sister to be called their first-person-trustworthy".

''We are twins.''

''I see. What I'm about to tell you is not easy... Your brother...

She paused hesitantly.

Cersei wanted to scream at her to spit it out, to tell what had really happened to Jaime, her twin, her lover, her other half, her _everything_.

''Yes?''

''Your brother lost a hand in the accident... his right hand.''

Cersei felt her heart miss a beat. Whatever emotion, whatever feeling, she had never felt before. She saw black spots, and felt herself almost collapsing, before the nurse held her by the arm :

''Stay with me... Our best doctors are with him right now, they're going to heal him...''

_Really?!_ Cersei wanted to scream. _Maybe they're going to give him back his hand?!_

The nurse took her to the room that had been assigned to Jaime, but it was empty for now.

Cersei sat down in the armchair, and, despite the anguish gripping her chest, let sleep win her over...

* * *

When Jaime woke up, the first thing he saw was his sister asleep in the armchair on the left side of his bed, her long golden curls in battle.

When he raised his right hand to start stroking them, to gently wake her up, he found himself raising his arm covered with bandages.

Oh. Yes. That's right. He had forgotten that little detail.

He had forgotten that in the night, when he was barely conscious of what was happening to him, doctors had rushed to fill out a paper saying that he was authorizing them to amputate his right hand.

To save your life, Sir, they had insisted.

He had agreed, not that he really had a choice.

He stretched out his left hand, then, and began to touch Cersei's blonde locks a little awkwardly, but tenderly.

As soon as his hand made contact with her head, Cersei fluttered her eyelids and woke up whispering:

"Jaime ?''

And before he could record anything of what was happening, Cersei hugged him, her arms around his neck, paying attention to the many wires that connected him to various machines, burying her face in the hollow of his neck as he gave her back her embrace:

"Oh Jaime, don't ever scare me like that again...''

"Never again, I promise...''

When Cersei finally moved back, he raised his stump towards her, and said to her, with a smirk:

''Well, I guess I'm going to need a golden hand now...''

Cersei emitted a sound between sighing and laughing, before saying to him :

''Oh how foolish you can be... Of course you'll have your golden hand...''

And with these words, she took him back into her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	2. Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Book''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Post - Season 8
> 
> Enjoy reading!

The library of Casterly Rock was much larger than in the memories of Tyrion. Shelves covered the walls up to the ceiling, crumbling under the books, old grimoires and more recent volumes.

When he first entered it holding hands with the twins he had had from his marriage to Sansa Stark, which they had renewed after the war, the fall of Daenerys and the rise of Bran Stark, many memories, almost as old and dusty as most of the books in this library, came to his mind.

When he was a child, he spent his days here, lost in books, preferring the company of dead or imaginary characters to the company of people who constantly made fun of him because he was different.

Fortunately for them, his two children, Loren and Alys, did not seem to have inherited his deformity.

They had inherited something else, which hurt Tyrion even more every time he looked at them.

Although they had the soft red hair of their mother, they also had the typical Lannister emerald eyes.

Emerald eyes that painfully reminded Tyrion of other twins, twins that had long since disappeared, but twins that he still hadn't been able to mourn.

His children reminded him of Cersei and Jaime. He had never told them about them, but he often wondered if they too loved each other the way Cersei and Jaime had loved each other. Not that he was ashamed of his brother and sister, no, but talking about them hurt too much, much too much. The wound that the discovery of his brother and sister's bodies had left deep inside him was not healed, and would probably never fully heal.

Sometimes, when he was really too sad, when it hurt too much, he would go down alone, into the crypt of the castle, where he had their bodies repatriated and buried, together. He could stay there for hours, crying all the tears of his body, crying for his family, his family that he had helped to kill, his family that he had killed.

At this thought, a lonely tear ran down his cheek, a tear that he hurried to wipe off with his sleeve before it raised questions from his children, questions that would be many, far too many for him to answer without starting to cry, to really cry.

Alys and Loren pulled him out of his daydreams, pulling on his clothes in the hope of getting his attention. Their familiar, all-too-familiar emerald eyes shone with excitement as they called out to him.

They had just found a huge book about the monarchy in Westeros, a very recent thick book, which traced all the reigns of history back to Bran Stark's.

The children were terribly perceptive, despite their young age, and they had opened it up and started flipping through it, until they came across a particular page...

This time Tyrion did not hold back his tears when he saw the scarlet coat of arms, like the blood that had been shed and spilled, like the castle that had collapsed, and the golden lion, as golden as the metal that had made their family's power and supremacy, as golden as their crowns had been.

It was little Alys who spoke first, in a small, enthusiastic voice:

''Father, did you know Cersei Lannister? She has the same name as us, is she one of our family ?''

Before he had time to answer, she had already turned the page, her brother leaning over her shoulder as they put the book on the floor for better viewing, and both of them had gasped to discover the next page and Cersei's print that had been made, capturing with disturbing realism the thin face, piercing, burning eyes, high cheekbones, well drawn nose and pulpy lips of his sister.

When he saw the drawing, his tears redoubled, but always silently.

''Is that her? How beautiful she is!''

But the children, still waiting for the answer of their father which however did not come, looked at him again, and saw his tears still flowing. Alys and Loren both got up and came to hold him, hugging him as hard as their little arms would let them.

When he had finally dried his tears, he went and sat them down in an armchair, and made them sit on his lap.

The two little ones huddled together as he began to tell them a story, a new story, a story they had never heard before, a story of gold and blood, a story of murder and betrayal. But above all, a love story.

''Cersei Lannister was my sister.''

At these words, the two children stood up:

''You never told us you had a sister!''

''You are the brother of a queen?''

''Why "was"? She is not anymore?''

''Slowly, slowly. I will answer all your questions but take it easy. I had a sister and a brother, twins, just like you. Their names were Cersei and Jaime. But before I tell you their story, you have to promise me something. Something very important.''

Loren nodded solemnly, as grave as a seven-year-old could be and was quickly imitated by his sister.

''You will read and hear a lot about Cersei and Jaime Lannister. You will only be told what History has wanted to remember about them, the Mad Queen and the Kingslayer, that they were a monster and a perjurer, a heartless ruler and an oathbreaker. You will be told that what they did was wrong, that it was a sin. But you two must not believe it. You must not believe what people will tell you or what you will read about them. These things are not true. These people didn't know them. The only things you have to believe about them are the things I'm going to tell you''.

''We promise you.''

''This is not the story of a monster, perjury, or sin. It is the story of a woman and a man who were tortured, and of a forbidden love when it should not have been...''

* * *

A few days later, when Tyrion goes down into the crypts of Casterly Rock, he is not alone.

There is Alys hanging on his left hand, and Loren on his right hand.

They are all three there, silently, their heads bowed down, and the same tears on their cheeks.

The three of them are standing in front of a huge white marble tomb with gold letters carved into it:

_Cersei and Jaime LANNISTER_

_261-305 AC_

_Died together, as together they were born._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	3. Disguise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Disguise''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Cersei had never wanted to be a girl.

From her earliest childhood, she had wanted to be a boy, and to be considered exactly like her twin brother.

But the gods had not given her this grace, and Cersei could only associate the difference in treatment between her and her brother with her gender, despite the fact that they were so similar that even their father could not always tell them apart.

And this difference made Cersei unhappy, even if she did not show it openly.

After all, girl or not, she was still a Lannister. And if there was one thing that Lannisters were taught from birth, boy or girl, it was this:

Lannisters don't behave like fools.

And not behaving like fools meant, most of the time, not showing one's emotions to anyone, be it one's family, other important houses, or even servants.

But no matter how hard she tried to hide it from everyone, there was one person, only one, to whom it had not escaped.

Of course, Jaime knew. He knew that his sister was unhappy. At only six years old, he was seeing everything that adults didn't see, or what they chose not to see.

Of course he knew. Cersei was his other half, a part of himself. How could he not have known?

And seeing her unhappy and sad makes him inexplicably deeply unhappy in turn.

So Jaime is looking for a solution, which could give his sister back her bright, shining, radiant smile, which has the power to light up a room with more power than the sun itself.

He knows that Cersei would have wanted to be born a boy. He knows that she would love to be able to ride a horse and learn to fight, whether with a sword or a bow, instead of having to spend her days sewing, writing lines and lines until her calligraphy was absolutely perfect, she has already told him how much she hates it.

But he also knows how easy it is to confuse them, they are so much alike. They have the same golden curls, the same emerald green eyes, the same childlike voice, the same face, the same size, everything.

One evening, Jaime takes Cersei into a room where no one is around and where no one will disturb them, and explains his idea to her.

And the way his sister's green irises light up as he offers her what he's been thinking about for days and days is the only answer he really needs.

The next day, they exchange clothes. Cersei pins her hair with her brother's help so that it comes up to the same height as his, and, just for a little day, it's as if they're swapping skin.

Of course, it's a disguise. Of course, it can only last one day. Of course, it's not much. Of course it is.

But still. Cersei becomes a boy, Cersei becomes Jaime for one day, with all that that entails, and she couldn't be happier.

And in the evening, when she joins Jaime, her cheeks rosy with pleasure and she kisses him on her little lips to thank him, he knows that, of all the things in the world, the one that makes him the happiest is making her happy.

So, from time to time, they exchange clothes, they disguise themselves, and Cersei becomes Jaime and Jaime becomes Cersei, and Cersei is no longer as downhearted as before.

But the best things always come to an end.

The years go by. Cersei and Jaime grow up, and it is no longer possible to confuse them.

Cersei now has beautiful feminine curves. Cersei is fine, Cersei is delicate, Cersei is graceful. She has alabaster skin, long gold curls, and shiny emerald eyes. Cersei is the prettiest young lady of all Seven Kingdoms. And Cersei hates it.

But what she hates most of all is the idea of her, a frail young lady, as fragile as the porcelain she seems to be made of. A young lady who will depend on a man all her life, her father, then her husband, as one expects of all women, whereas Cersei would aspire to have a role, a real role to play, more than the one she has been destined for since birth, to be sold to a man she will probably never know, perhaps twice or three times her age, and to give him children.

She would like to wage wars, get involved in politics, run a seigniory, in short, all these things that are normally reserved for men, not women, because women of such a high birth have a life all mapped out: being born, growing up, blossoming, giving birth, raising children, dying. That's what she's been prepared for all her life.

And there is no moment when she no longer regrets not being like Jaime, not being able to exchange, not being able to disguise herself.

Jaime, too, has grown up. But instead of curves, he has gained muscles through training. His hair has become slightly darker, now the color of freshly hammered gold. He's grown up, he now has a solid build, a strong jaw, to swoon at every youth.

But of the girls, there is only one that attracts him, only one, it is the one he has devoted himself to since his childhood, it is the one who has always accompanied him, since his birth, even before that, the one he was standing on his feet when he came into this world, and the one he promised himself over and over again to leave him.

Cersei and Jaime have grown up, they have changed physically, but that's where it ends. Jaime still has only one desire: to make Cersei happy. Nothing has ever changed that, and nothing will ever change that. It's just the way it is.

So Jaime continues to do everything he can to make his sweet sister smile, just like she did so much as a child, but stopped doing when they grew up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	4. Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Question''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Jaime was waiting impatiently in front of the television.

Tonight was the night his whole future was decided.

It was tonight that Aerys Targaryen, the leader of Westeros, was to announce whether or not his bill had been passed by the Small Council, the council that voted on legislation for the vast country and its seven provinces.

He was biting his nails, angrily piano playing on the armrest of the couch where he was sitting.

His whole life would depend on that decision.

* * *

When Cersei returned to her apartment in King's Landing, she was surprised to find it open.

She had given Jaime a key, of course she had, but it certainly wasn't him who was there. She had offered him to come, but he had declined, using the excuse of a last-minute meeting with Essos business leaders for a partnership with the huge Lannister company.

She stepped forward cautiously. If it wasn't Jaime who was there, it could have been anyone, perhaps someone dangerous.

She saw a path of red petals on the ground.

Rose petals.

She followed the path that the flowers formed, and found herself in her living room.

It was when she turned on the light, illuminating the room plunged into darkness that she saw him, and uttered a shout of surprise.

Jaime was there.

He was there, well dressed in his black suit.

But above all, he had taken a knee to the floor.

Cersei was so stunned that she dropped her purse, which fell to the ground with a thud, and was unable to make the slightest movement.

She thought at first that she was in the middle of a dream, a beautiful dream, but the return to reality would be far too hard, far too painful.

Jaime looked at her with a smile and then gently mocked her and her stunned expression:

''You know, it hurts to stay in that position too long.''

When she finally recovered from her emotions, she walked towards him.

He slipped one hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small blood-red velvet box.

He opened it, unveiling the most beautiful ring Cersei had ever seen, made of gold with emeralds, and, looking her straight in the eyes, straight in her emeralds so similar to hers and to those of the ring, to those of their future, he said to her:

''Cersei Joanna Lannister, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?''

Cersei continued to stare at him, feeling tears coming to her eyes:

"Is the law passed?''

Jaime nodded, and she threw herself at him:

"Oh, Jaime! Of course I do!''

She let him get up, then put the ring on his finger, as they had dreamed so much, and let a couple of tears escape from his eyes and run down his cheek.

They kissed for a long time, perhaps the longest kiss they had ever shared, before reluctantly parting.

Cersei broke the comfortable silence in which they had settled, asking:

"And Father?''

''What about Father?''

"He will never let us do this. He has already planned weddings for us, you with Lysa Tully and me with Robert Baratheon. He will not tolerate us breaking up potential prolific alliances with other companies.''

He hugged her, and whispered in her ear:

''You want me to say? I don't care about Tywin Lannister. I don't choose Tywin Lannister. I don't like Tywin Lannister. I love my sister," he kissed her on her blonde earrings, "I love my lover," he kissed her in the hollow of her neck, "I love my future wife," and he closed the discussion by kissing her on her lips.

* * *

A few days later, Jaime and Cersei went to Casterly Rock to tell their father of their engagement and their intention to get married as soon as possible.

They had agreed that they would both tell him, that they would be together when they told him about their plans.

When they were invited to enter the huge room that served as their father's office, he was already there, behind his big table, writing some kind of document.

When he saw his two older children, he called out to them in a voice that was meant to be unstoppable:

''You've come at the right time, both of you. I have just finished writing your respective marriage contracts. You are both going to marry Lysa Tully and Robert Baratheon next year.''

''No.'' replied the twins in one voice.

Their father looked at them, raising an eyebrow, looking for the audacity to refuse one of his orders:

"No?''

''No," Jaime confirmed. ''Cersei will not marry Robert Baratheon, and I will not marry Lysa Tully. We can't marry them.''

''Yes, you can, and you will.''

"No, we cannot.''

''And why not?''

This time it was Cersei who spoke:

''Because Jaime and I are already engaged.''

Tywin looked at them both with his piercing green eyes, as if he could read their souls:

" Really ? And may I ask who?''

Cersei held his gaze, continuing to stare him straight in the eye.

''We're engaged. We are both engaged. We're going to be married together.''

"No." Tywin replied emphatically.

And Jaime spoke in turn:

"Yes, we are. We love each other, we've always loved each other, always have, and we're going to get married.''

Tywin looked at them in turn, saw the ring on Cersei's left ring finger, and then addressed them in an icy voice:

''Good. In that case, you have no further business here. You may leave, and above all, do not set foot here again, unless it is to tell me that you have decided to put an end to this insanity and to conform to the marriages I have planned for you.''

"But Father...''

''As of this day, you are no longer my children.''

Cersei bit her lip, then turned away, walking to the exit.

Jaime slipped his hand on her back, rubbing it gently in a circle, and then opened the door for her.

They exited Casterly Rock, probably for the last time, and returned to Jaime's car to return to King's Landing. Home, their only home now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	5. Defeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Defeat''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Bonus of my work ''The Hanging Tree''
> 
> Enjoy reading!

The basements of the Red Keep were strewn with stones. How could they have been otherwise?

It was as if the heavens had fallen upon them, as if the gods whom neither of them had ever truly believed in, whom they had both despised too many times, had chosen to punish them for all the sins they had been accused of, those they had committed, and those of which they were innocent.

The sky had fallen on them, and they had not been able to stop it.

But at least they were alive. This is what Jaime was thinking as he cautiously crawled out of the dragon's skull in which they had taken refuge. The Red Keep may have collapsed, crumbled, and dragged all the power that had made the House Lannister strength in its fall, but they were alive, and nothing else mattered.

Once Jaime was out, he took Cersei's hand to help her in turn free herself from the dragon's head, so similar to the monster that had reduced King's Landing to ashes, spreading fire and blood in its streets.

When she was finally standing beside him, Jaime could see on her pale face the grooves traced by the tears she had shed when they thought they were dying in each other's arms. Even though they were safe, she was still shaking. She continued to look up at the vaults of the ceiling with an anxious look, as when he had finally reached her, as if she feared that what was left of the Red Keep might fall down again, almost burying them. The hand she had put on her prominent pregnant belly seemed to be in spasms, which she tried to hide by rubbing her palm in circles on her abdomen, as if she was trying to soothe the little lion cub that was still inside, but would soon be pointing at the end of his nose.

But it was definitely not supposed to be there. It couldn't have been there. By the time their cub was born, they should be as far away as possible. They had lost, Jaime and Cersei knew that. They had lost, so they had to run. They had to flee, as far away as possible, because Daenerys Targaryen was going to hunt them down.

If, through the greatest misfortune, she succeeded in capturing them, Jaime did not even want to think about what was in store for them. Death, no doubt. But if the Targaryen girl was really as crazy as her father's king had been, then it wouldn't go well. It would not happen without suffering, without blood.

And blood, Jaime had seen enough: he would not let the blood of the last Lannisters, the blood of the last lions, be spilled for anything in the world. Daenerys Targaryen could sit on the cursed Iron Throne and demand to be bowed down and called "Your Grace" if she wanted to, but there was absolutely no way he would allow her to harm Cersei or their unborn baby. He would do everything in his power to stop her, even if it meant signing his death warrant.

Everything he had done had always been for Cersei, for Cersei and their children, and it was not about to end. If he had to die for one of them, or for their safety, then so be it. He would die.

Still holding Cersei by the hand, he took her with him in the hope of finding some way out, some opening to their freedom, not without giving her a warm look and a reassuring smile beforehand, while drawing soothing circles on the back of the hand he held with his thumb.

The exits to the outside of the castle seemed to have been blocked by the heaps of stones and rubble, and they searched in vain. They had to face the fact that they were indeed blocked.

Jaime thought for a brief moment, for a split second, about going back up the way they had come down, and taking another secret passage that would have allowed them to discreetly exit the ruined castle, but he quickly put the idea out of his mind. If Daenerys had already invaded the Red Keep, or rather what was left of it, she would ask her Immaculate to search for Cersei tirelessly until they found her, dead or alive, for only then would she be sure of what was going to happen to her enemy. Going back into the castle would only put Cersei and the baby in greater danger than they already were, and Jaime couldn't bring himself to do that.

He felt Cersei squeeze his good hand in his own. She was tense: of course she was. At that very moment, she was without a doubt the most wanted person of the Seven Kingdoms. He turned to her and, without a word, took her in his arms, hugging her, until he felt her relax, if only a little, against him.

What happened next happened so fast that Jaime didn't have time to react.

Dozens of Unsullied landed in the basements, quickly surrounding them, cornering them against the wall, spears brandished forward, pointing at them, and murderous glances in their black eyes.

Jaime, in a desperate and futile attempt to protect Cersei from the Targaryen soldiers, pushed her behind him, standing in front of her, his arm with the golden hand stretched back toward her, his left hand drawing his sword, as if, with one hand alone, he could have defeated them all, as if, alone, proud lion that he was, he could protect his lioness and his cub.

But it was a wasted effort.

The Unsullied were faster, stronger, more trained.

Although he managed to disarm a certain number of them, it was not enough.

The Unsullied catch Cersei violently, but take care not to really hurt her, their queen has ordered them to do so, she wants Cersei alive, and she is not strong enough to resist them, no one is strong enough to resist them, Jaime is not strong enough either, he gets caught, he too, and the soldiers don't touch him, they don't touch him, and yet Jaime follows them, because they have Cersei and there's no way he's going to abandon her again, he won't do it, he refuses him, they've always said it, they came into this world together, they'll leave him together.

If Cersei must die, then so must he. In any case, he cannot live without her. She is his other half, a part of him. He won't leave her alone, nor her, nor the child she is carrying.

He grabs her hand, despite the eunuch soldiers surrounding them, and together they are brought to the throne room, in front of Daenerys Targaryen.

Victory is overwhelming for the dragons.

Defeat is bitter for the lions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	6. I love you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''I love you''  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> Context: AU - Season 8 where Jaime and Cersei led the Lannister armies together at Winterfell.
> 
> The entire Game of Thrones universe belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

It was freezing cold, absolutely freezing.

The snow was thick and kept falling, the flakes were gently flying by the hundreds, and the sky was grey and cloudy.

The White Walkers may have been defeated and the King of the Night killed, but winter was still there.

The Long Night was over, but dawn had not yet come.

Dawn had not yet come, and for Jaime, it would probably never come.

He had fought death itself as bravely and courageously as he could muster, but now the only thing he wished was that death had prevailed.

All the survivors of the Great Battle of Winterfell were now gathered outside the castle grounds.

Hundreds of funeral pyres had been set up, on which were stored the thousands of corpses, the thousands of men, women and children who had perished in the war against the army of the dead.

Many people were crying. And Jaime would have gladly cried with them, if he had not already shed all the tears that his body contained.

Tyrion was a little further on, beside the dragon queen. He, too, had been crying, it was obvious, his eyes were red and slightly swollen, and he seemed to carry all the pain of the world on his shoulders.

Several people had already begun to grab burning torches and set fire to the bodies of their loved ones who had tragically disappeared.

Jaime felt an intense heat, contrasting sharply with the biting cold that cut into his skin like a knife with a sharp blade, when Tyrion came and stood right next to him, a flaming torch in his right hand projecting its orange glow onto the white snow that covered the ground.

He didn't want to feel warm, nor did he want to feel cold, no, he didn't want to feel anything, nothing, only nothingness, because feeling things only reminded him too painfully that he was still alive.

Tyrion gave him the torch, and Jaime, in his turn, walked to the pyres.

His footsteps guided him naturally, mechanically to the one that concerned them, he and his brother who walked right behind him, and whose footsteps squeaked in the powder snow.

He had not cried from the beginning, but when he saw her, it was too much for him, and tears rolled down his cheeks, streaming down his face, even making him look like a coward in front of all the other men present, who were not crying.

But he didn't care. He didn't care about being a coward. He didn't care what other men, other women and other children thought.

They didn't know. They didn't understand. They couldn't understand, and he could never understand.

No one could ever understand.

Jaime contemplated Cersei's body, lying there like so many others around her.

She was even paler than usual. Her golden hair looked dull, and her green eyes, the beautiful emerald green eyes that he had so loved to get lost in, her burning, piercing eyes, were closed. Her lips were white, almost blue.

His tears redoubled when he was next to her, when he gently passed his gloved hand over her face, tenderly caressing her cheek, once warm, but now cold, icy as the air.

The Starks had insisted on burning all the bodies, even though the White Walkers were no longer, no longer existed.

All the bodies, without exception.

Jaime had protested, wanting to take Cersei's body back home to Casterly Rock, the only place where she had truly been happy in this world, wanting to be able to gather himself with her when he needed it, when he needed to be with her to forget that he would never be whole again, to forget even briefly that the one who was unquestionably the woman of his life was gone, that she was no longer there, all because of him.

It was he who had insisted on coming to fight in the North, and she had at first refused, not wanting to help with this war, convinced that the Lannisters would inevitably come out of it as losers, and then had finally accepted after her many pleas, and had not wanted to let him go to Winterfell alone, for fear that something might happen to him. And it was she who had paid a heavy price, giving her life to save his own when a White Walker had attacked him from behind.

The only things Jaime remembered from that moment were Cersei's gasp when the dead man's spear had sunk into her entrails in place of her brother's back, her body collapsing to the ground, and the distant echo of his cry of pain when he realized that it was over for her, for him, for them.

The Starks had insisted on burning all the bodies, even Cersei's.

Jaime didn't know how long he'd been standing there watching her, and it didn't matter in the end. He might as well have stayed for hours, days, weeks, since it was the last time he would see her in this world and he couldn't bring himself to do so, because it hurt, much too much.

He bent down to kiss her forehead and then her lips for the last time.

He couldn't help noticing that her lavender perfume persisted, despite everything, despite everything else, that perfume that he had loved so much, like everything that came from her, that perfume that smelled like paradise for him, that smelled like home, a home that he would never see again.

For a long time he leaned towards her, his tears streaming down both their faces, and finally he whispered to her:

''I love you. I love you, Cersei. I've always loved you. I will always love you.''

He kissed her cheek one last time, then straightened up.

He placed the burning torch under the pyre, which quickly caught fire in turn, ending Cersei's body as he ended Jaime's life.

It was when he realized what he had just done that he let himself fall to his knees in the snow, barely aware that Tyrion was hugging him, too, crying, but not as hard as Jaime, of course, everyone was crying less than Jaime, because none of the beautiful people gathered around the corpses had lost as much as Jaime.

No one had lost a sister, a twin, a best friend, a confidante, a lover, a mother of children, a lifelong love, a soul, another half,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	7. Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Always''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Between the S01E05 (‘’The Wolf and the Lion’’) and the S01E06 (‘’A Golden Crown’’).
> 
> Enjoy reading!

When, long after nightfall on King's Landing, Cersei heard someone knocking on the door of her apartments, she knew instinctively that it was Jaime. Who else could it have been, at such a late hour?

She didn't have time to invite the person behind the door to come in when the door had already opened ajar, just enough to let her brother sneak into the room, as quick and silent as a snake, and then close it again, only a split second later.

He began to get closer to her, she could see him in the mirror on her dressing table where she was sitting, and she didn't have time to make any movement or say a word that he was standing there, tall, handsome and proud right behind her.

She could not help but notice that he was not wearing the armor of the Kingsguard, only his cream jacket, stained with blood in many places.

He leaned over her, and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

She turned around so she could see him for real, rather than just his reflection:

"What are you doing here?''

Jaime winked at her to shut her up.

"I don't have much time, I have to go.''

Cersei's green eyes widened.

''What do you mean, you have to go? Where are you going?''

She stood in front of him, and Jaime put his hands on her arms:

"Did you hear what happened to Ned Stark?''

Yes, she knew. Of course she knew. How could she not? Since that afternoon, the entire Red Keep had been upside down because of the commotion the news had caused. She had seen Lord Stark being brought unconscious back to the castle with a spear still stuck in his leg, but she didn't think, didn't hope, that Jaime might have been foolish enough to attack and wound the Hand of the King.

Unfortunately, the blood on his clothes told him otherwise.

She looked him straight in the eye:

''Don't tell me you're the one who started all this?''

Jaime held her gaze, but did not utter a word. He didn't need to. Cersei understood.

''It's not true... Jaime, please tell me it's not true...''

He still doesn't say anything.

Cersei let herself fall back to the chair from which she had just gotten up, overwhelmed.

Jaime fell to his knees in front of her, taking her hands in his.

''Do you understand now why I have to leave?''

Cersei continued to look at him, her anxiety now readable in her beautiful emerald irises:

''If Robert finds out, he's going to want your head.''

''But luckily, at the moment, he doesn't know anything; that's why I can't stay another minute in that damn town.''

He brought one of her hands to his lips, kissing it gently on the palm:

''I just came here to see you one last time before I leave.''

As he got up and began to walk towards the door of the room to leave the room, then the castle, then the city, and Cersei, she suddenly got up from her chair in turn, and ran behind him.

When she was finally at his height, she threw herself into his arms, which automatically closed around her, and Jaime felt one or two warm tears streaming down her collar :

''Please Jaime, I beg you, don't leave me alone here... Don't leave me alone with Robert...''.

Allowing himself a few more minutes, he buried his face in her hair, while she nested hers in the hollow of his neck, and he gently rubbed a hand on her lower back, whispering :

''I have no choice... You know I have no choice... If I stay here, they'll kill me for what I've done...''.

She moved back, freed herself a little from the embrace, enough so that he could see the tears streaming from her eyes and stain that face he loved so much:

He gently placed his hand on her left breast, in the place where his heart was palpitating, so similar to his own, which had begun to beat at the same time as his own and which was destined to stop beating at the same time as his own. ''Wherever I go, I will be here, with you... We are one person, one being, one soul... Nothing can or will be able to separate us''.

He pressed his lips to her temple:

"And then I'll come back... You know I will... I'll always come back...''

After giving her one last kiss, on her lips this time, she dried her tears.

After all, Jaime had promised her. And as far as she was concerned, she knew he would keep his promise.

She knew he would come back to her. Always. He had promised. And with her, he always kept his promises. Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	8. Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Free''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Follow the 17th drabble of my collection ‘’True Love Never Ends’’, ‘’The Wind Will Carry Us’’.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

When they finally arrive in Pentos, after days and days, maybe even months spent on this boat, they are something they have never been : they are free.

They are free.

In Westeros, they were Cersei and Jaime Lannister, children of the great Tywin Lannister, from the richest family of the Seven Kingdoms, they were brother and sister, they couldn't love each other because it wasn't right, not right in the eyes of the Seven whom they had been taught to respect since their early childhood, not good in the eyes of society, which did not allow incestuous marriages, except for the Targaryen family, but unfortunately for them they were not Targaryens, and not good in the eyes of their father, who hoped for each of them to have a marriage that would bring him power and might, more than he already had when he already had too much.

In Pentos, they are just Cersei and Jaime. They are not Lannisters, they are not lions of the Rock, they are not brother and sister, they are not the children of Lord Tywin. They are nobody.

They are nobody, and they are free.

Just the word has the sweetest flavor on their tongues.

Free. Free. They are free.

They are free, and nothing and no one will ever change that.

Pentos strangely reminds them of Casterly Rock, with the turquoise sea, the white sand and the burning sun in the blue sky without a cloud on the horizon.

The first thing they do when they arrive is to go to a broker to exchange the jewelry that Jaime has taken care to take with him for money.

The gods know how much they will need it.

After all, they are just two young teenagers, who have just arrived in a place that is totally unknown to them, with no place to go and no one they know who might be able to take them in.

But most of all, now they live with the constant threat of being recognized, found.

Now that their father has had to realize that his golden twins are missing, he has probably sent his armies after them to the four corners of the Known World.

Cersei doesn't like the look on the broker's face when they parley with him, as if she were a particularly appetizing piece of meat, and Jaime doesn't like it at all, so much so that he puts a possessive arm around her waist to show the fat little man in front of them that she is already taken.

They come out of that place as quickly as they went in, their money in their pockets, enough to buy a more than decent house.

They find a nice one, right on the beach, by the sea, with white stone walls and a red tile roof.

When the richly dressed man offering the house for sale, thinking he is trying to convince a young, newly married couple, asks them if the house is right for them, they don't even have to talk to each other to find out if they agree. One look is all they need.

They start their new life with a little difficulty.

It's hard for them, two fifteen year olds who have never had to lift a finger to support themselves, to start earning a living by the sweat of their brow.

It's hard, but they make it, because they are together.

Jaime managed to get hired as a city watchman because of his swordsmanship. Meanwhile, Cersei takes care of the house, and even earns a little money sewing or embroidering clothes, her slender fingers trained through endless hours and hours spent with septas repeating the same movements until everything is perfect.

But it doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter, because in Pentos they are free. They are free to love each other.

For the other people in the town, they are a young married couple.

Cersei falls asleep in Jaime's arms every night and wakes up in the same place every morning, without exception.

They can kiss each other's cheeks or lips, hold hands, become one, as they were always meant to be, all those little everyday gestures that were the greatest of luxuries for them in Casterly Rock, and the most natural thing in the world in Pentos.

Cersei often thinks about it, how ironic it all was.

In Westeros, they were part of the richest, most prominent, most powerful family in the whole kingdom. They should have been able to do what they wanted, without worrying about what other people thought.

After all, the lion is not concerned with the opinion of the sheep.

But no, that was impossible. They lived in the greatest luxury that could be, and yet, the simplest things, they were not entitled to them. They had to make do with stolen kisses at the corners of corridors or behind trees, holding hands under the table, where no one could see them. As for sleeping together, there was no question of even dreaming about it.

But in Pentos, where they lived in simplicity, it had become possible. And Cersei realized that not living in opulence didn't bother her anymore.

She didn't need the expensive silks and gems, and the servants ready to meet her every demand.

In Pentos, she had Jaime and her freedom. And that was priceless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	9. Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Wedding''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting – Following ‘’Question’’.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Their wedding is not a large and lavish feast, as one would expect in a wedding of the arguably wealthiest family in Westeros.

But, perhaps deep down, they are no longer part of this family.

Perhaps they are no longer Lannisters, perhaps they ceased to be Lannisters the moment they left their father's office after telling him of their plans for an engagement, rather than accepting those he had planned for them.

But that's okay. They may no longer be Lannisters, but they are still Cersei and Jaime, and nothing and no one can ever take that away from them, and, after all, that's all that matters.

They are getting married in the Sept at Lannisport. There are only three there, the two of them and then Tyrion, who accepted their decision, who always knew about the relationship, but never objected. Because who is he to forbid two people to love each other, or to condemn their love?

There are only the three of them, and as a result, the immense religious edifice seems quite empty to them, compared to the other times they have attended ceremonies inside it. But never mind.

Never mind, because nothing, nothing in the world, absolutely nothing, no celebration, no amount of power, no amount of money is worth the flame that burns at the bottom of the two pairs of emerald green eyes so similar of the two twins when their hands are bound together by the septon they have found and when they exchange their rings.

They do not take vows, nor do they swear eternal love, nor do they swear to cherish, love, and protect each other in all circumstances.

They do not need to. They don't need to promise all this to each other. All these beautiful speeches, all these beautiful words, it may have value for other couples, for other people, but not for Cersei and Jaime.

After all, they have already promised each other eternal love. Only, as it was long before they were born, long before they even knew, before they had any idea what love was, they have no witnesses. But that's all right. They love each other.

When they kiss each other on the lips, only Tyrion is there to see and applaud them. But they don't need anyone else.

They invited their father to the ceremony. But he never answered them, and, of course, he didn't come.

So it was Tyrion's honor to lead Cersei in her long, immaculate dress to the altar, where Jaime was waiting for them, in his finest costume, whose face lit up when he saw his sister and bride enter.

It was also in Tyrion that they asked to be a witness, to sign the contract and other documents below their own names.

When they are finally declared husband and wife, when they finally get out of the Sept, they have no other place to go than Cersei's apartment where Jaime has recently moved in, but that doesn't matter either.

They didn't need a party, they didn't need a big meal. After all, there are only three of them.

They had just ordered a meal from the caterer, and while many people would say it's a poor wedding night, for them it's the best day of their lives.

At the end, when night falls, they just sit on the sofas in the living room, and talk about everything and nothing, as they used to do when they still lived in Casterly Rock.

Cersei starts to feel tired, dozes off a little, and then ends up falling asleep with her head on Jaime's shoulder, with his arm around her.

Tyrion gets up, it's time to go away, to leave them alone, to let them enjoy their wedding night, even if they have already consummated the marriage long, long time ago.

When their brother closes the door behind him, Jaime looks down on Cersei, on _his wife_ who sleeps huddled like a kitten against him, and can only see how lucky he is. He doesn't regret his choices at all.

He had been and could have remained the heir of Tywin Lannister, the greatest fortune of Westeros and its prolific trading empire.

But had he done so, he could never have married Cersei.

He might have been one of the richest men in the world, he would surely have been the most unhappy.

Because nothing was as good as Cersei. Nothing had ever been worth as much as Cersei.

It was a truth that he had discovered when he was a child, and nothing had ever denied it.

Nothing would ever be worth as much as Cersei, and now Cersei was there, she had become his wife, and nothing else mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	10. Protect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Protect''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

From their earliest childhood, Jaime promises Cersei that he will always protect her.

After all, that's the way it's supposed to be: Cersei is beautiful, the most beautiful, beautiful enough to become a queen, and if she becomes a queen, then Jaime will be her knight in shining armor, always there, always ready to defend her.

That's what they play at in the gardens of Casterly Rock, under the tender eyes of their mother: each time, Cersei is the queen, and Jaime, the knight who protects her from the monsters.

They think that everything will always be as simple as that, that they will be able to live happily, together, and that nothing and no one will ever be able to stop them.

But it's all just dreams.

Time passes. Time is cruel. It destroys children's illusions, shatters their dreams, their utopias, and reveals to them the brutality of the world in which they live.

And this brutality will unfortunately prove too many times that Jaime won't always be able to protect Cersei, because it's impossible.

The first time they experience this is when Cersei sneaks into the woods with one of her friends, or the closest thing to it, and Jaime is not with her.

Jaime is not with her, and cannot protect her from the words of an old witch, words that will gnaw at her all her life, without her even being truly aware of it. In any case, what could he have done?

The second time is when their father takes Cersei by force to King's Landing, to be presented to the court, where she will constantly parade before the eyes of lords two or three times her age, like a mare to be sold to the highest bidder, to be married to the one who will pay the best price for her.

The following times are much worse than these two.

They are much worse, because Jaime is there, right there, a few meters from Cersei, and this is the first time he feels so helpless.

They are just separated by a wall, a door, a door in front of which Jaime is supposed to stand guard and behind which Cersei is being raped, no, not raped, that's not the right word, people would say, she's not being raped, it's her husband, her husband who is riding her violently, he's just asserting his rights, his privileges as a husband and a king, privileges that he claims by almost fulfilling part of the prophecy that haunts Cersei since that fateful day, since Maggy the Frog and her story of crowns, shrouds, gold, queen, valonqar, with the only small difference that it is not her little brother who fails to choke the life out of her by squeezing her white throat while her tears drown her.

Cersei is being raped, or, whatever the proper word is, subjected to what no one should have to endure, and Jaime can do nothing about it.

He could walk into the room, barge in, interrupt everything, stick his sword in the king's back, as he did with the previous one, because after all, if he could kill a king to save a kingdom, what wouldn't he kill for Cersei?

But he doesn't, because Cersei explicitly asked him not to, because she asked him not to kill Robert, not without his agreement, and he promised her, a promise that is more valuable to him than all the other oaths he may have taken together.

It is at this point that he begins to think that he will never be able to protect Cersei properly, because nothing will be able to protect her definitively.

* * *

When, years later, they run for their lives, their lives and their child's lives, Jaime thinks back to those childhood promises, promises he could never keep, and which he will fail again.

He failed to protect Cersei. To succeed, he would have had to be able to protect her from herself, from herself and from the words spoken by Maggy the Frog, words that seeped into her veins and destroyed her from the inside like poison.

He may have tried everything, but he failed.

To be able to protect her from this prophecy that was devouring her, consuming her, he should have started by protecting their children.

But Joffrey was dead, then Myrcella, then Tommen.

They were dead, and there was nothing he could do.

He could do nothing to protect Cersei from the Great Sparrow and the public humiliation of having her crown taken from her, because, even though the hair was growing back, the Atonement had taken more than her hair from Cersei, just as the amputation of Jaime had taken more than his hand from him.

The only thing that had given him hope for the success of his mission, the purpose of his life, was when he had managed to seed her, when he had managed to allow a new little lion cub to begin to grow safely in the belly of his other half.

Another child.

Another little lion cub.

A fourth little lion cub.

A fourth, when the prophecy had foretold only three.

This baby had acted as an antidote, an antidote to the poison that corroded its mother, an antidote that could have saved her, protected her.

But this miracle antidote will never see the light of day.

When they realize they're going to die, for Jaime, it's just one more failure.

He failed, he failed to protect Cersei.

When, in a last hope that maybe all is not lost, he covers her as well as he can with his own body to keep the stones from falling directly on her, to keep death from falling on her.

This last hope is a last failed attempt.

Cersei dies with him, as she had so often predicted, but too soon, much too soon.

When, years later, people will read in the White Book that Ser Jaime Lannister died protecting his Queen, they will not be able to know that it is not true, that this honorable sentence hides a much uglier truth, which proves that finally Brienne of Tarth did not know Jaime Lannister as well as she thought she did.

Jaime Lannister did not die trying to protect Cersei Lannister, but rather trying to protect her, and that he failed, his sister and lover dying with him, because children's illusions and song stories rarely become reality, and that, unfortunately, many knights fail to protect their queens, in this world that spares no one.

But, if Jaime didn't die protecting Cersei, because nothing protects us, or not for long, he died doing what he did best in his life: loving her, holding her and reassuring her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	11. King/Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''King/Queen''.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence – Pre-serie
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Jaime contemplated his sword, dripping with blood.

It was over. Aerys Targaryen was dead. The Mad King was dead.

He looked at the Iron Throne, big, monstrous, black, which seemed ready to swallow anyone who sat on it, anyone who tried to seize power.

When they were small, with Cersei, he had promised her that he would be king, and she would be his queen. Wasn't that the promise that all little boys made to their lovers when they still didn't know about the world around them and its cruelty?

Unconsciously, he climbed the few steps that separated him from both the abominable silhouette of the throne and his wildest dreams.

When he stood above the stage, dominating the entire room more than he had ever dominated anything, he did not hesitate for a split second before making his decision.

He sat on the Iron Throne, opening the door that would lead to his freedom, to their freedom, to Cersei and him.

To their freedom to love each other, to their freedom to marry, to have children together, and to create a dynasty that would last a thousand years.

After all, the Targaryens had married well between brothers and sisters for more than three hundred years. Why couldn't the Lannisters do the same?

Besides, their father had wanted so much to make his daughter a queen. He would not refuse this opportunity, even if it was her own brother she should marry. Wouldn't he?

And if their father tried to stop them, Jaime could force him to do so, one way or another. As King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, he would have every right.

Cersei would not have to marry a lord she did not know, and who would only see her for the children she could give him. She could marry Jaime, who loved and cherished her more than anything else in this world, and together they could have little princes and princesses with gold buckles and emerald eyes.

Thinking about it, he began to smile. He would do anything for Cersei. If to love him in broad daylight, he had to become king, then so be it. He would become king. And she would be his queen.

He was interrupted in his sweet dreams when the heavy doors of the Throne Room opened on the fly on Lord Eddard Stark and his Northmen.

Ned Stark contemplated him at length, silently, as if waiting for Jaime to come down from the Iron Throne, which he claimed in the name of his friend who had led him into a long rebellion, Robert Baratheon.

Seeing that he was not making the slightest movement to rise from the throne where he was proudly seated, the Northerner spoke up:

''Ser Jaime Lannister. You have no business on that throne. It now belongs to King Robert, of the House Baratheon, the first of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms".

A sneering smile was born on the knight's lips, which still did not move an inch:

''And yet, I see Robert absolutely nowhere. Or perhaps he thought it unworthy for a future king to participate in the taking of his capital? ''

Eddard was stunned for a while, but then he finally came to his senses:

''He'll be here soon. And when he does, he'd better not find you sitting on the Iron Throne.

Jaime continued to smile, with his usual arrogant look on his face as he looked at Ned Stark. Then, chewing his words well, so that the Northerner would not doubt what he was saying, he announced:

''Well, Robert isn't here. So, the throne is vacant, and I have no intention of coming down from it.

Stark looked at him, without seeming to grasp what Jaime had just said.

"What the...’’

But Jaime cut it off before he had time to finish his objection, clutching the handles of the swords that were the armrests of the Iron Throne:

''I claim this throne. I proclaim myself, I, Jaime Lannister, the first of my name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.''

Eddard Stark's companions all drew their swords, but just as they were about to advance toward Jaime, the Lannister soldiers who had invaded the city a few hours earlier entered the throne room.

When they saw Jaime on the Iron Throne, they all bent their knees in uniform motion.

That's when he knew it was won.

* * *

For the first time in his life, Jaime entered his father's office in the Tower of the Hand without asking his permission or waiting for an invitation.

He decided to keep his father in this position, not only because he has always managed to do a good job, but also because there is no one else he could offer it to. The idea of naming Tyrion had crossed his mind, but his brother was still too young.

Anyway, for the moment he had another problem to deal with.

His father was sitting at his desk, probably writing a letter.

He barely looked up when his king of sons entered.

Nevertheless, he put down his pen when Jaime was standing right in front of him, his hands resting on the desk.

As he said nothing, it was Jaime who began the conversation:

''I have come to talk to you about my marriage.''

With those words, Tywin finally gave Jaime his full attention and looked him in the eye:

"I'm very comfortable hearing you say that. But now that Lysa Tully is married to Jon Arryn, it seems to me that you must have something in mind to take the lead in this way.''

Jaime wondered how to tell him, and then preferred to tell him offhand.

''I'm going to marry Cersei.''

Lord Tywin's green pupils speckled with gold wrinkled as if he hadn't quite understood the name of his daughter coming out of his son's mouth.

"I beg your pardon?''

Then Jaime repeated:

"I'm going to marry Cersei.''

His father's mouth was now a thin line, now so tightly pinching his lips:

"No.''

To that answer, Jaime stood up:

''I didn't come to ask your permission. I came to tell you of my marriage, not to ask your permission to marry the woman I have chosen.''

Seeing that his father still wasn't saying anything, he added:

"I am the king. I do as I please. And you have always wanted Cersei to be queen: she will be. The Targaryens married well between brothers and sisters for more than three hundred years. The Lannisters can do the same. After all, the lion doesn't care about the opinion of the sheep, and ...''

Tywin thought long and hard: to impose the Lannister dynasty, to make sure that it was well seated, on the Iron Throne, and that people did not think it was inferior to the Targaryen dynasty. If the Targaryen had been able to transgress the laws of gods and men by making incestuous marriages, then the Lannisters had to follow suit.

''Fine" he breathed.

Jaime paused in his tirade and looked at his father:

" Excuse me?''

"I said: fine. You have my permission to marry your sister. And, anyway, I know that even if you didn't, you would still do it. You said it yourself. You are the king. The king does as he pleases.''

Jaime nodded silently, then left the room.

* * *

It was a cool night in King's Landing.

Lying under the silk sheets of Jaime's room, they were both out of breath from their embrace, which they had just untied.

They said nothing, leaving a comfortable silence enveloping them as Cersei closed her eyes, almost beginning to drowsy, her head resting on Jaime's chest, huddled against him as he stroked her hair, occasionally kissing her on the top of the head or the forehead.

As he leaned closer to her, kissing the skin just behind her ear, he whispered:

"I talked to Father today.''

''Hmmm...'' she muttered, without even bothering to open her eyelids.

Jaime laughed silently, knowing exactly what to say to make his sister react:

''Yes...'' he kissed her on the cheek. ''About your future marriage, in particular.''

As soon as those words crossed his lips, Cersei rose abruptly, looking into his eyes.

He could read sadness and something like fear in her beautiful emerald irises.

''You're getting married in a fortnight.''

He felt her trembling against him.

He wrapped his arms around her, and she instinctively huddled up against him, like a kitten, no, like a lioness, and, kissing her again on her cheek, he blew in her ear :

''You can no longer be the King's mistress, Lady Lannister... Or rather, you can no longer be the King's mistress, Your Grace, I should say...''.

When his eyes lifted to look at him, there was no more fear.

No, only love. Love and hope. Just like in the kiss that followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	12. Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Desire''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Pre-serie – Before the birth of Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

It is common knowledge that all women want to look like Cersei.

Cersei is beautiful. Cersei is young. Cersei is rich.

But, above all, Cersei is queen.

And all women dream of that. To be queen, to attain supreme power, to be desired by all men and envied by all women, to be dressed in the finest and most expensive silks and to own jewels of gold and silver, precious stones and diamonds.

Yes, this life, all women want it.

Well, almost all of them. Except one.

The more the days go by, the more Cersei tells herself that she no longer wants to be the queen.

The ladies of high birth and the commoners who want it don't know what they want.

Of course, Cersei too has, like all little girls her age, wanted to be queen. She was even closer to it than most of them. After all, her father had intended to marry her to Prince Rhaegar, and her father, as the most powerful man in the kingdom, perhaps even more powerful than the king himself, always got what he wanted.

If her father wanted her to be queen, then she would be queen.

Only she did not want it for the same reason as all the other children.

Cersei had wanted to be a queen because she thought that by becoming the king's wife, by offering her father the power he so longed for on a platter, maybe he would treat her a little better than he did, maybe he would care for her a little more, at least as much as he cared for Jaime.

What she didn't understand at the time was that her father would never treat her as Jaime's equal.

Jaime was a boy. Jaime was his son. Jaime was his heir.

Jaime would one day become the lord of Casterly Rock and the Westerlands, would one day take over the Lannisters' immense fortune, the largest fortune in the whole kingdom. Cersei, on the other hand, was only a woman, a woman that Tywin Lannister could dispose of as he wished, that he could sell without more consideration than a mare, destined to reproduce, a mere pawn in a huge chessboard.

She had not understood, at the time, that whatever she could do well, she would never be worth more in the eyes of her father than what she had between her legs and the heirs she could produce, and the crown she had on her head.

He would never see her for what she really was, he would never see her as his heiress, as a pupil whom he had managed to teach far more than he thought.

When she had married Robert, at her father's insistence, she still had that part of innocence, of unconsciousness, which had allowed her to believe that this marriage he so longed for, this marriage that was to make his daughter a queen and him one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, would have allowed her to make him see her worth, her true worth, and the place and role she could occupy in the prosperity of the House Lannister.

But this marriage had brought her nothing but misfortune, unhappiness, and pain.

The other women absolutely all wanted to be queen, well, Cersei would gladly give them her place.

She would have given everything she had to exchange her crown and diamonds for freedom.

The freedom to be able to love Jaime, without the need to hide, without the need to just enjoy each other's presence only when they were sure they were alone, and no one could see or hear them.

Cersei no longer wanted to live that life.

But she had realized this too late, much too late.

She had realized that she should have run away with Jaime as soon as she had the chance, just as that crown that was the will of each of the women in the Seven Kingdoms had been placed on her head, and the diamonds had come into contact with her white skin.

But no one understood that.

No one except Jaime. Only he knew and understood how she felt. After all, they were one being, one soul, two halves of the same whole. It made perfect sense that only he could understand. He was the only one left in the middle of the Red Keep.

There had once been a servant woman, an old maid, whose name was Hannah, if Cersei remembered correctly, and who looked after her as if she had been her own daughter.

But even that maid couldn't understand her as Jaime understood her.

One day, she found her crying, and Cersei didn't even really know why the tears were flowing freely down her beautiful ivory cheeks.

She had wiped them off with a handkerchief before taking his hand, bringing him to a mirror, sitting her down, and talking to him.

Cersei still remembered their conversation:

_''Look at you. You are beautiful. You are young. You are a queen. Through this, you give hope and strength to thousands of people, thousands of women.''_

She remembered looking up with emerald eyes with a few more tears in the corners, and turning to the old woman standing behind her so she could look into her eyes.

_''And me, who gives me that?''_

Of course, she hadn't answered. She didn't know what to answer. No one would have known how to answer that.

Cersei no longer wanted to be queen. Cersei just wanted to be able to love the man she wanted. But no one understood that. No one, except Jaime, because he wanted the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	13. Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ‘'Sea''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting - This drabble is a kind of prologue, or "bonus" scene for one of my future OS that should be released on December 25th, "Just the end of the world".
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Cersei wanders on the beach.

That's what she does most of the time now.

She just sits there, looking at the sea, the horizon, the birds, where she walks in the water, without really seeing where she sets foot.

It's been six months.

Six months.

She is barely aware of time passing.

She lets her feet wander on the sand and her mind wanders she doesn't really know where.

Elsewhere.

She is elsewhere, just like her soul.

Only her body is really there.

She blames herself for that.

It shouldn't be there anymore. _She_ shouldn't be here anymore.

She wonders why, why is she there when he isn't, what she did wrong to deserve this.

At the same time, Cersei will never really be there again.

A part of her has definitely left this world, just as the fucking truck collided with their car.

Thinking about that, sitting, as she has been doing recently, on the beach, with almost no one around her, just a few people, an old lady with her dog, two young people running, a bunch of kids collecting shells while the sun slowly descends, adorning the sky with soft orange, pink, purple colors, reflecting in the deep waters of the blue immensity that stretches as far as the eye can see in front of her, Cersei cries.

It has been six months, and yet she remembers it as if it were yesterday.

She remembers everything.

The horn.

The braking.

Jaime's arm passing in front of her to keep her from going through the windshield.

The airbags going off.

The screams.

The sirens.

The ambulance.

The doctors.

The tests.

The condolences.

The crying.

The loneliness.

The funeral.

The coffin.

The words that she says in front of everyone, but which are nothing, compared to the storm that rages inside her, the storm of emotions, but that no one can really understand, maybe because deep down, even she doesn't understand it, she doesn't understand her feelings anymore, she just feels empty, empty, yes, that's it, empty, like the words she recites as if she had learned them by heart.

The fake smiles that are afflicted.

The condolences, again.

The loneliness, again.

The loneliness, always.

Loneliness. This is what has been chasing her since that fateful day, which never leaves her.

Cersei has not seen her father again, nor her brother, her other brother, not the good one, unfortunately, no, the good one, she will never see him again, never again, and it hurts, it hurts much more than all the physical injuries she suffered because of the accident.

They didn't speak to her during Jaime's funeral, she just crossed her father's gaze, reproving, almost disappointed in his green and gold irises, as if he was disappointed that she miraculously survived and not her twin brother, as if it was the bad child who stayed while the good one left.

She feels the same way.

When she woke up in the hospital, surrounded by doctors and nurses and all kinds of caregivers, they all seemed relieved. All of them. A young intern had even congratulated her for fighting, for choosing life.

He hadn't understood anything.

She hadn't chosen life.

It was death that didn't want her.

It was death that had not wanted to give her the grace to welcome her at the same time as her twin brother, her other half, her whole.

She could have tried to join him.

She often thinks about that too, looking at the sea.

What it would be like if she advanced in the turquoise water, without ever stopping, without ever turning around, sinking deeper and deeper into it, never to come out again, or if she lay down almost where the waves break and the foam tickles the dunes, waiting for the waves to wash it away.

She doesn't know why she still hasn't done so, by the way.

Now, nothing is holding her back anymore.

She has nothing left.

She is alone, and solitude, she can't take it anymore, she doesn't want it anymore.

If Cersei was born with a twin brother holding her foot, following her by only a few minutes, not even, a few seconds, it's good for never being alone.

She grew up with him, knew him even before they were born together.

They should have left him together. That's what they had always promised each other.

But then fate decided otherwise.

Jaime is dead. Cersei is alive.

Jaime is in the sky. Cersei is in front of the sea.

But Jaime is no more, so Cersei is no more either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	14. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Nightmare''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

The sun is high in the sky, burning like the fire of the dragon that destroyed the city only a few days before.

Cersei's diaphanous skin is red, as red as the blood that flowed, as red as the Lannister banners that lined the ramparts of King's Landing and the walls of the Red Keep, as red as the three-headed dragon, emblem of the Targaryen.

She is standing in front of all the people who survived Daenerys Targaryen's attack.

And, at that moment, she feels as if she has gone back to a few years ago, to that horrible day that she remembers only too well, that she would have liked so much to be able to forget, but that she had never managed to do, because those things are not forgotten, those things are never forgotten, never, and that at that moment she is reliving her worst nightmare.

She is naked, in front of everyone, again, when she wished she had never been naked again.

Only this time, the crowd is no longer agitated with impatient murmurs, impatient to see their queen, their only real queen, humiliated, scorned, taunted, insulted.

People are silent, say nothing, find nothing to say.

They have learned the hard way that it was better to say nothing, to keep silent, that it was the best way to survive, not to perish burned, like almost the entire population of the capital of the Seven Kings, now fallen into the hands of the Targaryens, the dragons, the Mad Queen, the only true Mad Queen, the daughter of the Mad King, who carried out her last order, her last litany, burn them all.

Then, not a sound animates the place where they were all forcibly gathered by the Unsullied.

Cersei does not like the way they all look at her, but she assumes that it is better than humiliation, since after all, there is certainly nothing worse than that.

Daenerys isn't here yet, hasn't arrived yet, but it shouldn't be long now, she's going to witness the humiliation, then the death of her enemy, she has lived only for that for many months now, for that too, and for the Iron Throne which was once her father's.

She is going to come, to stand there, in front of everyone, at Cersei's side, to show her, so that people know what happens to traitors and usurpers, to show off her greatest victory, her greatest trophy, the lion, who has fallen prey to the dragon.

The only thing that Cersei wants is for it to be quick.

Deep inside her, she hopes that Jaime will come, too, will come and save her, as he couldn't do it the last time, that he will get her out of there, protect her, his knight in shining armor.

But these are only hopes, vain hopes, Jaime won't come, if it happens, he's dead, she's only deluding herself, no one will save her, no one, except maybe death.

The tears that she used to hold back flow freely, from now on, because she no longer has the strength to hold them back, to stop them, and that, in any case, she has nothing left to lose, she has already lost everything, she has lost the game of thrones and is therefore going to die, with her child, because when you play the game of thrones, you win or you die, there is no middleground.

The moment she says this to herself, he appears.

Jaime splits the crowd on his horse. He is dirty, ragged, unshaved, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

He is there.

People step aside, let him pass.

He jumps to the ground and climbs on the stage.

The Unsullied don't move, don't stop him, and Cersei doesn't understand why, doesn't try to understand, it doesn't matter either.

Jaime walks towards her, in front of the crowd, stunned.

He comes closer, they are only a few centimeters apart, and Cersei is really crying, as she has never allowed herself to do except by being alone with him.

She looks him in the eyes, blowing:

''You've come to save me...''

Jaime supports his gaze, but his eyes are also hard, full of reproach, pain, anger, and something else that Cersei can't identify.

He grabs her by the neck as he does when he is about to hug her, except this time he is hard, rough, and not soft and reassuring like the other times.

"No.''

Cersei doesn't know what hurts more between her heart breaking or the blade sticking out of her back, between her two shoulder blades, leaving the crimson blood running in plain sight...

When she suddenly wakes up with a start.

Before she is even aware of where she is really from, she feels a strong pair of arms wrapped around her.

Jaime pulls her up against his chest as she shakes, still not quite over her nightmare, and lets tears escape from her eyes.

He holds her there, gently rocking her, trying to calm her down as much as he can, whispering soothing things.

After a while, she stops crying, her tears dry up and her sobs stop.

She plunges her green eyes into his, and is a little reassured to see that he looks at her with tenderness rather than as in her dream.

They wait a few more minutes, before Jaime breaks the silence by asking in an anxious voice:

"Do you want to talk about it?''

Cersei nods softly, feeling the tears return, silent this time, but only manages to whisper:

''It was you...''

She doesn't need to say any more. He knows.

She's been dreaming for days, weeks already, that he will kill her in every way imaginable.

He hugs her tighter, kisses her in her short blonde locks, before saying:

"I will never hurt you. You know that, don't you?

Without moving, always huddled against him, she nods her head, yes she knows, of course she knows, it's Jaime, Jaime loves her, Jaime won't hurt her, won't kill her, not now, not ever.

She stands there, still, while Jaime gently rubs her back with his good hand, drawing big circles on her skin.

He kisses her again, this time on the forehead, before whispering to her:

"You're safe here... Go back to sleep my love...''

He is right. She's safe. He just told her. So she listens to him, and closes her eyes, breathing in his perfume deeply and letting the gentle waves of sleep overwhelm her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	15. I don't know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''I don’t know''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Alternate Universe – Season 8 Episode 5 – Canon Divergence.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

When the stones began to fall right in front of them, Jaime grabbed Cersei by the hand and, as quickly as possible, pulled her out, just before the rubble blocked the exit.

Coughing from the dust of the collapse, they tried to come to their senses, to clear their minds, to put their thoughts in order after he had just escaped the clutches of death.

Cersei saw that they were now on a small cove, a thin strip of sand, too thin to call a beach, its size further reduced by the landslide.

A small canoe, just wide enough for two people and containing a bag, was floating in the water, right next to them.

She was still panting, as if she was still under the threat of being crushed by the Red Keep, crushed by her power, the power she had coveted so much but no longer wanted.

She felt Jaime grab her by the arm, again, plunging his green eyes into hers, just like a reflection in a mirror.

Their eyes were the only thing that had remained really the same as they grew up.

Their eyes, their Lannister green eyes, piercing jade and burning wildfire, in which they loved to lose each other so much.

After a split second spent looking at each other, rediscovering each other, Jaime, still out of breath from their mad rush through the bowels of the Red Keep, asked Cersei :

"Are you all right?''

She nodded, reassuring him, yes, everything is fine, everything is fine now, I'm with you, so it's okay, everything is going to be okay, everything is going to be all right.

Jaime took his hand of flesh from Cersei's arm and put it on her belly:

''What about the baby?''

At her words, Cersei felt a tear, a lonely tear, the only tear she had left, the only tear she hadn't shed when she thought she was dying rolling down her cheek:

"I... I don't know...''

Instinctively, her fingers came to meet Jaime's over the thick fabric of her dress, hoping to feel something, a kick, the slightest sign of life, of the little lion cub that was growing there.

There was nothing.

Nothing.

Only emptiness.

Jaime's hand joined Cersei's, and, taking her gently, he pulled her slightly:

''Come on, let's go. We'll take you to a maester as soon as we get to Pentos, but we have to leave now, or Daenerys may find us.''

Cersei let herself be guided, trusting Jaime blindly.

After all, he had come back to her, for her, when she had threatened to kill him.

Of course, she would never have killed him. She couldn't.

Being alone was a curse in this world, and without Jaime, she would have been alone forever.

And now he was here, and she would never be alone again. Never again.

He helped her into the boat, and then he climbed up, settling down in front of her, without letting go of his hand.

She watched him grab the oars, but she grimaced when she saw the blood that had dried on her jacket.

''Jaime...''

He looked up at her.

''You're not going to be able to row with your injury...''

He gave her a little smile, which had all the ghost of the arrogant smile that he had worn so often many years before, when they felt like they were above everyone else.

''But yes, don't worry about me. I've already told you that it's absolutely nothing.''

She stared at him, doubtful:

"Who did this?''

"Euron Greyjoy.''

The mention of the arrogant, pretentious pirate darkened the conversation.

''I guess he fled to the Iron Islands. You were right, he was just a coward.''

Jaime looked at her longingly:

''Euron Greyjoy didn't run away to the Iron Islands, although he didn't lack the desire to do so.''

She stared at him, a nascent gleam of understanding in his bloom:

"You killed him.''

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Deep down, she already knew it.

''Yes. And now I don't want to talk about him anymore. He's part of the past, and the past is behind, far behind. We are sailing towards our future.''

As he said this, Cersei turned around to look at the Red Keep, or rather, what was left of it, what was left of what had been her home for the past twenty years.

It was completely falling apart, with flames still ravaging it in places, turrets and sections of wall continuing to collapse from time to time.

Daenerys Targaryen had wanted to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but she would only become the Queen of Ashes.

Seeing that Cersei was half lost in thought, Jaime continued:

''We will finally be able to form a family, as we have always wanted. We will be able to marry and raise our daughter together.''

It fell completely in ruins, the flames still ravaging it in places, with turrets and sections of walls continuing to collapse from time to time.

Daenerys Targaryen had wanted to be the Queen of the Seven Crowns, but she would only become the Queen of Ashes.

Seeing that Cersei was half lost in thought, Jaime continued:

''We will finally be able to form a family, as we have always wanted. We will be able to marry and raise our daughter together.

Cersei turned her head to look at him, an eyebrow raised and half a smile emerging from her lips:

"A daughter?''

"I'm sure she is.''

He wanted a girl, a pretty little princess with blonde curls and emerald green eyes, the same as them, who would grow up to be the spitting image of her mother and have a smile as dazzling as the sun.

''What if it's a boy?''

''It doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl: as long as you're both healthy, I don't have a preference.''

Cersei really smiled at this answer, a sincere smile, which he hadn't seen for a long time, and which almost made him forget the years that had passed.

''But she's a girl.''

Cersei looked up to the sky but continued to smile.

They didn't know what was going to happen, they didn't know what was going to happen to them, but they were together, the three of them, so nothing else mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	16. Shiver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Shiver''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Alternate Universe – Season 8 – Canon Divergence
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Dark night reigned over King's Landing.

The sky was dark, despite the fact that it was still the middle of the afternoon, when normally, even though winter was there, it was still daylight.

But not that day.

Cersei realized this the moment she looked out the window, only to see the capital of the Seven Kingdoms plunged into darkness.

An icy wind blew through the wide openings in the walls of the Red Keep, more frigid than Cersei had ever felt in her entire life, even when she had traveled north with the royal procession nearly ten years earlier.

It was then that she really became aware of the situation.

Qyburn had warned her a few days earlier that the Night King, his White Walkers and his army of stiffs would march on King's Landing.

He had warned her, but she had not listened to him, nor had she listened to him on previous occasions.

And now, death presented itself at the gates of the city.

Cersei's breath was mist in the cold air, biting, piercing you to the bone.

The White Walkers were there, and she was alone.

Most of the others had died during the Long Night, a cruel battle that had seen the camp of the living lost, despite the support of Cersei and the Lannister armies, as well as the Golden Company at the last minute.

Daenerys Targaryen and her three dragons were dead. Jon Snow was dead. Sansa Stark was dead. Tyrion was dead.

When she had heard of the deaths of Sansa and Tyrion, from a few soldiers who had miraculously escaped the massacre, she felt tears come to her eyes, although she held herself back in front of the knights. After all, a queen does not cry in front of her subjects.

She never thought she would ever mourn the loss of a brother whose death she had so longed for, but she had, perhaps because Tyrion was so much more like her than she really wanted to admit, really wanted to admit to herself. And Sansa... she had been sincere when she said that she considered her almost like her daughter. Sure, she had been hard on her, maybe a little too hard on her young age and her innocence, but that's the way the world was, hard, cruel, ruthless with children and innocents, and that's what Sansa would find out some day. Cersei had been so proud of her little dove when she found out what had become of the Boltons. She was convinced that she would make an excellent queen, but after all, she had been her student, even against her will, and she had learned the lessons Cersei had taught her.

And Jaime... she hadn't heard from Jaime...

She refused to believe that he might be dead. This was utterly impossible.

She didn't want to think that he had died far away from her, alone, in the North.

And then, in any case, she would have known. She would have known, if he was no longer of this world.

But as the cold became more and more intense, she began to seriously doubt that he was still alive.

The North, the Riverlands, the Vale and the Westerlands had been invaded by the army of the dead.

Euron Greyjoy, coward that he was, had gone back to the Iron Islands with his fleet, as soon as he had learned the rout of the living.

And now Cersei was alone, lost in the vastness of the Red Keep.

She entered the throne room, pushing with difficulty the heavy swinging doors that refused to move because of the frost.

To her surprise, she discovered that white snowflakes were falling inside the room, covering the tiled floor with a thick, fluffy, white coat that was totally immaculate.

Cersei felt the cold numb, she shivered and trembled, trying in vain to warm herself by rubbing her hands up and down on her arms, but without much success, while the blizzard continued to blow with all its might, the winter winds really battering the city.

She couldn't remember a single moment when she had wished Jaime to be by her side, except perhaps for her Walk of Shame, but it seemed so long ago that she sometimes struggled to remember it, as if it was just the remnants of a distant nightmare.

She was completely alone, shivering, in the middle of the throne room of the Red Keep, in front of the Iron Throne, which was also beginning to be covered by snow, and she wished Jaime was there...

She missed him so much, more than she could ever have described him. There were no words to describe the desperation she felt at his absence, and she was surprised to pray to gods she no longer believed in that Jaime was coming.

Knowing his body better than her own, she could perfectly imagine his large build, his strong shoulders, his strong jaw, his hair, and his emerald green eyes so similar to her pools of fiery wildfire...

But while she was dreaming of green eyes, it was blue eyes that appeared.

She was stunned.

A White Walker stood over there in the doorway.

If she had ever seen a dead man before, when the Starks and the Targaryen girl had captured one beyond the Wall and brought him to King's Landing to show her, to make her realize it, this was the first time she had ever come face to face with a White Walker, whose stories had been told to her and Jaime by the fireside when they were children.

Without taking her eyes off him, she instinctively stepped back, now standing right next to his throne, her hand resting on the guard of the dagger she had stuck in her belt, ready to draw it out if the creature came too close to her.

Soon, however, it was not one, but two, then three White Walkers who were there, along with some of the corpses that stood in their place as soldiers.

She continued to shiver, to tremble, but out of fear or cold, she no longer knew.

She found herself paralyzed, unable to make the slightest movement as Death was inexorably closing in on her.

When suddenly...

A door behind it opened on the fly...

A cry from one of the ghosts tore the agonizing silence that weighed in the night...

One hand, cold as ice, which came to rest on his mouth, choking his screams, preventing him from screaming in turn, another, just as cold, which grabbed his arm and dragged him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	17. Apple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Apple''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting – Following ‘’Question’’ and ‘’Wedding’’.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

The first thing they do after they get married is look for a house to buy.

At the moment, they both live in Cersei's small apartment in Lannisport, much too close to their taste of Casterly Rock and their father, no, not their father, Tywin Lannister is not, is no longer their father.

This is rather uncomfortable, even if they don't care, but the thing that bothers them the most is that they cannot welcome Tyrion and offer him to stay the night with them without forcing him to sleep on the floor.

No, definitely, the apartment in Lannisport is too small, unsuitable for their needs.

They have to find something else, something that both of them like, that will be theirs alone and where they can live in peace and quiet, or even propose to their brother to come and live with them.

They spend a lot of time searching for this, but they struggle to find something to satisfy their desires.

It is too small, too big, too expensive, too old, too damaged, too close, too far, too dilapidated.

But one night, while Jaime and Cersei are once again busy with their research, each in front of their laptops, Jaime finally comes across something that might suit them.

He calls out to her, with a big smile on his face, like a kid on Christmas Day.

Cersei, come and see.

She approaches, leans over her shoulder, looks at the screen in turn, and sees what her husband is talking about.

On the site of the estate agency, she sees a medium-sized house, made of whitewashed stone with a slate roof.

Jaime turns his head towards it, looks at it.

She looks at him in turn, smiles at him, they know, it's okay, they found it, it's this one, it's their house.

* * *

Tyrion accompanies them when they go to visit it.

The three of them leave by car, the trip is long, the house is on the outskirts of Port Real, the capital of Westeros, but without being in the middle of the city, but he passes by quickly, they talk, talking about everything and nothing, as he used to do all night long when they still lived in Casterly Rock.

When they arrive, the impression they had is confirmed.

The house does not look like Casterly Rock, the house of their childhood.

Here there are no oversized rooms, no long, endless corridors, no high windows, so high that you think you can see everything from the inside, no private beach where the waves come crashing against the rocks.

Here, the rooms are small but warm, the windows are just wide enough to let the light through and there is no beach, only an orchard with apple trees full of blood red fruits.

It looks nothing like Casterly Rock, but that's exactly what they want.

After visiting the interior, while Tyrion continued his little tour, Jaime led Cersei into the orchard, where they could finally be quiet and discuss what they were going to do.

He put his arm under hers, walking with her between the trees:

''So, do you like it?''

Cersei's green eyes glowed with excitement as she looked at him, a big smile on her lips:

''Yes, I love it. That's exactly what I wanted.''

Jaime smiled back.

''Good. So we're in agreement then ?''

"We're in agreement.''

Jaime stopped, and picked an apple from the nearest tree, having to jump to the lowest branch of the apple tree to catch the ripe fruit.

He handed it to Cersei, who bit once inside. Before she could do it again, Jaime took the apple out of her hand and took a bite of the fruit.

Then he drew her towards him, and kissed her, the taste of the apple still on their lips, soft, sweet, like their dreams that were coming true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	18. Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Flowers''  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> Context : This drabble is a bonus of the wonderful fiction ''The Blue Diamonds'' from the equally wonderful Black Angelis, whom I can never thank enough for allowing me to write about this just monumental work, which I can only advise you to go read ^^.
> 
> The whole Game of Thrones universe belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Enjoy reading !

The room is dark, only lit by the faint glow of the candles placed here and there, you can see almost nothing, it is dark, black, there like despair, like nightmares.

Cersei sits at her dressing table, in front of the mirror, she smiles sadly, her reflection smiles back at her, but her emerald eyes are full of tears, unspilled tears.

Anyway, she does not cry, no more, she does not cry anymore.

Her tears shine like diamonds, yes, diamonds, and diamonds, Cersei has too many, far too many, more than any other woman in Westeros, she is sure of it.

Just the sparkling, delicate tiara on her golden mane would be more than enough to feed a family of Fleabottom for at least a whole year.

The crown of diamonds shines in the mirror, her eyes, her emeralds too, she looks at them without really seeing them, no, she doesn't see them, she doesn't want to see them, she lets melancholy overwhelm her, just as she would sometimes like to let herself be overwhelmed by the waters of the Blackwater, she thinks back to before, to before all this, to when she was young, to when she was innocent, to when she was happy.

Before Robert, before diamonds.

Because before, before Robert and his crowns of diamonds, there was Jaime and his crowns of flowers.

When her father had told her that she was going to be queen, she had been happy, so happy, or at least she had thought she was, illusions, they are only illusions, all that was not reality, it was only her reality, her own reality, yes, but unfortunately, the truth was much uglier, much more cruel, and she had not seen it, had not wanted to see it.

She had only had eyes and thoughts for Robert, Robert, the war hero, the king, who had come to ask for her hand by offering her a necklace, a diamond necklace, and, from then on, she had put aside Jaime and his crowns of flowers.

But now only diamonds, she saw them every day, yes, every day, all the time, everywhere, even on her body.

On her arms, on her breasts, on her back, on her hips.

Red diamonds, purple diamonds, yellow diamonds, blue diamonds.

Reproaches, insults, punches, slaps.

And then apologies, apologies, again apologies, always apologies.

I'm sorry, I love you, excuse me, forgive me.

And with the apologies, other diamonds, different.

Crowns, necklaces, bracelets, rings.

Nevertheless, when Robert gives them to her, when she looks at them, contemplates them, observes them, she tells herself that she would prefer the crowns of flowers of yesteryear.

But all these are failed deeds, they are sacrificed promises that belong to the past, to the past, it's over, it's too late, we can't go back, it's impossible, we can't erase everything.

Now that she has the diamond crowns, for which she willingly gave up, left, left the wreaths of flowers, she doesn't want them anymore.

She wants Jaime, he's the only one she wants, she's always wanted, she thought she wanted Robert, but no, she didn't know, couldn't know, if she had known, ah that, if she had known, she would never have accepted, she would have run away if she had to, and would have deserted everything, everything, her name, her house, her wealth.

After all, the blue diamonds would have gone to another queen as well.

She wants Jaime, but she can't let him see the diamonds, it's out of the question, if he saw the diamonds, what would he say, what would he do, she doesn't even wonder, she knows perfectly well, he would go to Robert.

A sword drawn.

Blood spurting out.

Another king killed.

But this time it would be over.

If Jaime killed Robert, he would be killed in turn, he would be killed, he would be stoned to death, two regicides, that was too much, already for one he would have had to pay for it with his life, but he wouldn't survive two, he would be be beheaded, his head would be on the ramparts of King's Landing, and she couldn't let that happen, she wouldn't want it, no, she wouldn't allow it.

She had gradually moved away from him, to reduce her chances of letting him see the diamonds, to reduce his chances of being condemned to death and her chances of being condemned to watch him die and perish with him, because she couldn't live without him, not completely.

And yet she still dreamed of the flower's crowns and her life before, before the diamonds.

Kisses stolen from the secluded corners of Casterly Rock.

Pink and white flowers intertwined in her golden locks, in her golden crown, that would stay there for hours, she would forget them and they would fade, until Jaime would delicately, gently remove them.

Emerald eyes that looked at her with such love, such devotion that one could have drowned in them, yes, drowned in them.

Nights spent loving each other, loving each other in the moonlight as they were not allowed to do in the sunlight, because it was wrong, wrong, it was a sin, it was not right, it was not good, not good at all.

Laughter as they ran, chasing each other on the beach, their feet treading the warm sand in perfect harmony, splashing, gushing water, her own laugh, her real laugh, the one that could have lit up her apartments plunged in darkness like the sun in broad daylight, the one that had never again crossed the barrier of her lips since the day she had entered the Sept of Baelor on her father's arm.

Since then, there had been diamonds, only diamonds, nothing but diamonds, destroyed, the illusions, massacred, the promises, broken, the dreams, finished, the crowns of flowers.

Only one diamond escaped from her emerald eyes, only one.

No more flowers. Nothing but diamonds...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	19. Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Child’’.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence – Pre-serie – Suite to ‘’King/Queen’’.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

When the first rays of sunlight began to penetrate gently through the bedroom windows, loud cries filled the room.

Baby crying.

Cersei let herself fall back against Jaime, who was right behind her, tilting her head back, panting, out of breath after those long hours of work. She was happy he was there. Most men were not interested in the birth of their children, or even in their children themselves as long as they were so small, as long as they could not speak or even walk.

But Jaime had asked to be notified as soon as the birth began, even if it meant interrupting his busy schedule, important as it was. He would have spent all his time with Cersei, who had had a rather difficult end to her pregnancy and who, on the Grand Maester's instructions, had been bedridden last month, but unfortunately, the Seven Kingdoms weren't going to govern themselves, and Jaime was not in favor of leaving his father alone in charge.

So when a squire arrived, embarrassed to interrupt a meeting of the small council, and told him that Cersei's delivery had begun, he naturally got up and went to their apartments.

* * *

_Jaime's father was talking when he was suddenly interrupted by someone knocking at the door of the room._

_The young boy behind the door looked uncomfortable, perhaps having to speak directly to the king, something he had never thought he would have to do._

_Tywin continued his long tirade, but Jaime silenced him with a simple wave of his hand, leaving the squire to speak:_

_"Forgive me for disturbing you, Your Grace, My Lords.''_

_Then he spoke to Jaime alone._

_''Your Grace, I have been instructed to tell you that the deliverance of Her Grace the Queen has begun.''_

_"Perfect.''_

_Jaime pushed his seat back and rose to his feet._

_"And where do you plan to go?''_

_His father's voice was cold, as sharp as a knife's blade._

_Jaime looked at him without blinking._

_''Well, it seems to me that the boy said that the queen had started to give birth. So I go to her.''_

_''Men don't belong there. You will go to Cersei when your son is born.''_

_Jaime walked towards Tywin, dominating him as he stood tall._

_''I am the King of Westeros, the Suzerain of the Seven Kingdoms, and my wife, the Queen, has begun to give birth to the future prince or princess of this kingdom. I don't think there's anywhere else I should be.''_

_With that, he turned and left the room._

* * *

Cersei didn't have time to rest for two minutes as one of the many midwives posed the screaming newborn baby, wrapped in white swaddling clothes embroidered with roaring golden lions, without giving her a moment's rest.

''A healthy girl, Your Graces.''

Cersei looked at Jaime, a gleam of anxiety deep in her green eyes. Their eldest child would not be of manly sex, how would he react?

But he leaned closer to her and, smiling, kissed her on the cheek:

''Thank you, love... Thank you very much...''

Cersei then smiled back. Jaime had told her repeatedly that he didn't care if it was a boy or a girl, as long as she and the baby were healthy, but she had hoped that if it was a girl, he wouldn't be too disappointed.

At the same time they looked down on their baby, their little girl, and their smiles stretched their lips even more.

The little one had all the characteristics of a Lannister, a real little lioness, with her thin golden hair and emerald green eyes, which they had barely had time to catch a glimpse of.

She started crying again, almost roaring, squirming in her mother's arms.

Cersei undid the top of her nightgown, leaving the little girl free access to her breasts, so that she could have her first meal.

Jaime's heart swelled with the sight of Cersei, his queen, with their little princess, and her fingers joined his where she held the baby, who had stopped crying and started suckling greedily.

When she had finished, she closed her little eyes and, stirring to make herself comfortable, fell asleep there.

Cersei looked at Jaime:

''Do you want to hold her ?''

Looking at her without really being sure he understood what she had said, he nodded and found himself with his daughter in his arms.

Cersei smiled as she saw Jaime holding their baby, looking at her with an explosion of love in his green eyes, and thought that she couldn't have dreamed better.

She began to close her eyelids, feeling herself drifting into a well-deserved sleep.

She felt Jaime come even closer to her, kissing her on the top of her head and urging her to rest her head on his shoulder, and dozed off there, continuing to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	20. Victory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Victory''.  
> \- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Alternate Universe – Season 8 – Canon Divergence  
> NB : In this version, Cersei does not threaten to kill Jaime, nor does she send Bronn after him.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

People are screaming.

They are shouting, shouting for all this to stop, for death to stop raining.

They shout to try to save their lives so that the bells will finally ring, and their cries go up to the sky, up to the Red Keep, up to Cersei.

She tries to ignore them, but painfully, they will continue to scream until they are silenced by the flames spattered by the huge monster hovering above them.

She closes her eyes, and suddenly people stop screaming.

Silence.

She reopens her eyes, and a long moan of agony can be heard.

The dragon, who a few seconds earlier had set the city walls on fire and blood, screams in pain, pierced by one of the stakes drawn from the Scorpions, as he falls into the waters of the strait, taking his rider with him.

Huge sheaves of water rise into the sky as the dragon sinks beneath the waves, Daenerys with him, then silence again.

It is at this moment that Cersei understands what this means.

She has won.

The Targaryen girl is dead.

The Lannisters are victorious.

A smile is born on her lips.

The victory is hers.

She leaves the window from which she watched the battle, and heads for the throne room.

She has won.

The Iron Throne is hers.

Just as she is about to enter the Throne Room with her hand on the doorknob, she hears a familiar voice saying her name just behind her.

She stops, finds herself paralyzed for a fraction of a second, perhaps for fear of having dreamed, of having imagined Jaime's voice calling her, does not turn around, not yet, not right away.

She feels a hand on her shoulder, she hears her name, once again, then turns around and sees him.

Jaime is there, standing right in front of her, dirty, a shaggy beard covering his face, but it doesn't matter, he's there.

If the victory over the Targaryens had created a deep sense of euphoria inside her, she is unable to put words to the emotions that overwhelm her when she realizes that Jaime is really there, in the flesh, in front of her.

* * *

A few weeks later, when Tyrion opens the door to Cersei's room, he can't believe it.

His sister, surrounded by several maidservants, is absolutely beautiful. Oh, of course, it was nothing new that his sister was one of the most beautiful women, if not the most beautiful, of the Seven Kingdoms, but there she was simply radiant.

Dressed in a long blood-red gown embroidered with golden lions, tiny rubies dotting the whole, her crown resting on her golden hair, she was breathtaking, and if Tyrion had never really seen her beauty, he could not help but be dazzled that day.

The hump of her belly, in which a new little lion cub, the future prince or princess of Westeros, is growing safely, tightens the fabric of the dress a little since Cersei no longer cares to hide it from the rest of the world. In any case, the upcoming wedding can hardly be any more scandalous than it already is.

Tyrion enters the room, too, dressed in his finest attire, the golden hand pin shining on his chest.

When Cersei turns to him, he smiles awkwardly:

''You are magnificent...''

She smiles back at him, things have improved between them, everything is not perfect of course, years of animosity are not erased in a snap of the fingers, but they make efforts, for themselves, but also for Jaime, and they manage to get along, at least enough for Cersei to ask Tyrion to lead her to Jaime in the absence of their father.

''Thank you...''

And she adds by ruffling his hair a little:

"You're not bad either...''

He smiles frankly now, asks her if she's ready, yes, she's ready, of course, she's ready, she's been waiting for this all her life.

He grabs her by the arm, drags her into the Red Keep.

When they pass through the doors, they are greeted by crowds of people, inhabitants of Port-Real, nobles, and commoners alike.

Tyrion helps Cersei to get in the saddle, they go across the city on horseback, they have decided that the entire population of the capital could attend the wedding, so that they can start a new relationship with them, and that almost all the people accept Cersei as their legitimate sovereign.

Laughter and cheers were flowing in the crowd, after all, Cersei won, the lions defeated the dragons, it was her Scorpions who rid them of Daenerys and her monster, who saved them in extremis when they thought they were all going to burn, as ordered by the Mad King thirty years earlier.

When they arrive at the place where the Great Sept of Baelor once stood, where a dais was erected to welcome the royal wedding, in full view and knowledge of all, Cersei smiles even more.

Jaime stands there, waiting with Qyburn, also with a hand pin on his torso. After all, the queen has two hands, so she decided to name Tyrion and keep Qyburn, who holds a crown similar to Cersei's.

He's handsome, gorgeous, even, with his deep red dot, he has all the makings of a real king.

When he sees Cersei appear, his eyes burn with love, because he too has dreamed of this day, this moment, it is the idyll of a lifetime that comes true, when he no longer really believed in it.

He doesn't know when he is happiest, when he puts the coat on Cersei's shoulders, or when she puts the crown on his head, or when their hands are tied with a ribbon, but the one he prefers is the one where Qyburn declares them husband and wife, King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and where they kiss each other ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	21. Wizard/Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":  
> \- Invite : ''Wizard/Witch’’.  
> \- Number of words : 100 words – 1000 words.
> 
> All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.
> 
> Context: Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence – Pre-serie – Suite to ‘’King/Queen’’ and to ‘’Child’’.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Cersei and Jaime were awakened in the middle of the night by baby crying.

Burying her head in her pillow, without even opening her eyes, Cersei grumbled:

''Jaime... your daughter is crying...''

In a sleepy voice, still half asleep, he answered:

''We had decided that until sunrise, she was yours...''

But the little girl lying in the crib just a few steps away continued to cry, and Jaime stood up, mumbling:

"I'm coming, sweetling, I'm coming...''

As soon as she saw her father arrive, the baby immediately stopped moaning and gave him a big smile when he lifted her up in his arms.

Cersei, who was now wide awake, was also sitting in their bed, savoring the vision she had in front of her: Jaime, with their baby in his arms. She smiled.

But her smile faded as a voice whispered in her ear:

_''... Gold will be their crowns, gold their shrouds...''_

She shook her head. No, that wasn't possible, was it? It was just talk in the air, spoken by a senile old witch in the woods.

She drove the thought of the witch, Maggy the Frog, from her head, but she couldn't stop a tear from running down her cheek.

Jaime noticed it, even from where he was, and, still holding the little girl in one arm, moved closer to Cersei, and wiped with his thumb the tear that continued to trace its furrow on her porcelain skin, frowning worried:

"Well then, my darling, what's happening to you?''

She smiled sadly.

''Nothing, it's just that seeing the two of you made me think of Maggy the Frog and her prophecy...''

He sat down next to her, gently caressing her cheek:

''Oh, my love... You know that's not true, don't you? I'll never let anyone hurt you, never, not you, not our daughter... And then look...".

He raised his arm slightly, where the little girl had started to chirp happily, perfectly awake and unaware of what was going on around her.

''Do you really think she looks bad ?''

Cersei laughed, and Jaime put the baby in her arms, smiling again, happy to be with her mother.

Cersei hugged her gently. Jaime was right, of course. It was just talk, it didn't matter, the witch wasn't there, the only thing that mattered was them, them and their little family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


End file.
